Insecure (Completed)

19

"Oh." I leaned in the kitchen doorway, absorbing what Trey was saying. I mean, I too didn't like how it seemed like Bre was always in control, but I wasn't trying to be the girlfriend that was controlling myself.

Trey must have found what he was looking for because he got off the counter and disappeared.

After I put the groceries up, I tried to get my mind off of Devonte and his mysterious disappearance. And Bre. I did my assignments for my classes. I started sketching for a new painting. I washed my laundry. I took a shower, and checked my phone again. Nothing.

After my shower I wandered out of Devonte's room and to the living room. Trey was in the couch, watching TV. He was also smoking.

"Is that weed?" I asked him.

"Girl don't nobody smoke cigarettes anymore besides old men and prostitutes."

I rolled my eyes and sat in the couch next to him. "Let me try it."

"Try it?" Trey's eyebrows jumped. "You ain't never smoked weed before?"

"Nah I have. Well once."

"Nah, sis, you better smoke on your own time. Don't have me corrupting you and shit."

"Nigga it's just weed!"

He smiled. "Or is it?"

"What?" Trey had me fucked up. I shook my head and went back to the bedroom. Trey was high as fuck and I had no idea what he was talking about.

I tried Devonte again. Nigga had me blowing up his phone and shit. This time he picked up.

He finally answered his phone and he sounded so tired.

"Hey Yazzy."

"Tae, where are you? I been calling you, you had me worried."

"I'm at the hospital."

My heart dropped. "What's wrong? Are you okay? What happened?"

"It's Bre." He paused. "She tired to kill herself, Yaz."

"Oh, my God. She's okay?"

"Barely, but yeah."

It hurt me to hear this. He told me she was depressed but I never imagined she was suicidal.

"What hospital is she at, I'll come up there," I decided.

"Nah, I'm headed back home now. Don't leave. Please." There was something in his voice, some type of desperation that made me agree.

When he got home, I was waiting for him by the door. He looked like hell. His eyes were red, and his face was drawn. Damn, he really cared about this Bre girl.

"I'm glad she's okay," I told him honestly.

He nodded, but didn't speak.

He dropped Trey's keys on the kitchen counter.

"Devonte."

"I just want to sleep, it's been a long day, Yaz. Too long." He finally said, brushing past me, on the way to his room.

When we got to his room, he immediately went to the bathroom. I laid in the bed, contemplating. He was really bothered by what went down, and I wanted to be there for him, even if it meant pushing him.

When he finally came out, showered and in his basketball shorts, I prodded. "Has she ever tried something like this before?"

He got in the bed, and ran a hand down his face. "Yeah. Once, when we were kids. She took her mom's sleeping pills. They pumped her stomach. Did some therapy, and promised to never do it again."

"So you known her a while?"

"Yeah, we grew up together. We were friends before anything else."

"Do you...think anything triggered it?"

"Yeah. This shit partly on me." He finally looked at me, like really looked at me. "Bre was pregnant, last year."

"What?" I processed it. "Was pregnant?"

"She lost the baby. Car accident. It was her fault. She was drunk."

"Drunk? And pregnant? And driving?" Nothing was making sense. I got out of the bed and began to pace.

"She didn't find out she was pregnant until after the car crash. She didn't even know...until they told her she lost the baby." He rushed out, "And I know that shit was her fault, and I know I should be mad at her, but she was already in a bad place before she got in the accident. When she lost the baby, it broke her. I couldn't leave her like that, man. So I tried to be there for her and shit, but I guess it wasn't enough."

"You couldn't have known...it ain't your fault."

"Feels like it is."

"I admire you for that, for being the bigger person, but she needs serious help, and you can't give her that."

"I know. But she's going to a program and it's like a weight off my chest. She gonna get her help."

He laid back in the bed. "I never even thought about having kids or being a father, and all of a sudden I had a baby, that would never take its first breath. And that shit, it fucking hurt. And I ain't expect that. And it's something she said, when I saw her in that hospital bed, that hit me in the chest. She said she wanted to see her baby. Our baby. Yaz, I almost had a baby. And I know most niggas would be thinking they dodged some shit, you know? Like I'm in college, I ain't ready to be no damn dad. So why that shit hurt?"

I didn't have an answer to that. Slowly, I made my way to him. He was sitting on the bed, looking at nothing in particular. I wrapped my arms around his big body the best I could.

"I told you my mom killed herself. I ain't tell you, I'm the one who found her. She ain't take pills or slit her wrists, nah she did the messiest most gruesome shit a person can do. She put a gun to her head and blew her brains the fuck out." He was whispering now. "That shit scarred a nigga for life. I was twelve years old. And when I saw Bre...it was like I was twelve years old again."

Damn. It was like no words would come to me. What do you say to someone who has been through so much shit? I didn't want to give him empty promises, likes it's gonna be okay, or tell him stupid things like stay strong. It was obvious he was strong. Maybe he needed to be weak for a change. Maybe he needed to grieve.

"I used to wake up every night screaming. It was like every time I closed my eyes, I saw my momma. Brains and shit splattered everywhere." He shook his head.

"I promised my momma I would never live the life my pops lived. I stayed in school, I got the grades, I got into college. Even though she ain't here no more, I can't break that promise. I wanna be somebody. Not another black boy, locked up or running the streets."

"You are somebody. You always will be."

I was trying to hug Devonte and he finally hugged me back. "I'm sorry I'm putting you through this shit, it ain't your battle. Hell, it ain't even mine."

"It's okay," I whispered.

"I gotta lotta hurt Yaz. My momma, leaving me and my brother like that, my pops, not being a father to us, I'm used to it. But for some reason it's hitting me right now, for some reason, I'm walking in on my moms dead body all over again."

I felt something drip onto my shirt, and I looked up. Devonte's face was wet with tears he struggled to contain. He tried to turn away, but I grabbed his face in my hands. "It's okay, baby. Let it out. It's gotta come out."

He didn't sob, or make any noises, he was silent.

I held him, and he cried.

A/N: Sorry for the late update. I'm not gonna lie, I teared up writing this chapter...